Retrieving, Revealing, Relaxing
by TheCountessAndTheEnglishLord
Summary: My take on how Mary comes to show Anthony that they can never be together despite his desperation to marry, helped along by Tom and a slightly overeager Charles Blake. Split into three parts exploring Mary's and Charles' attitude to the events.
1. A Smile Retrieved

Mary has never considered herself an avid admirer of the close relationship her parents hold, and she hopes to maintain this separation for as long as she can bear. However nothing can shake the worrying feeling that arises when she thinks about Tony Gillingham, not even when her mother accosts him warmly, asking of his health and scolding him for not visiting more.

"Have you spoken to Mary yet?"

"No, but I am sure she will take it like a lady."

Her mother smiles that selfless smile she always aims at possible suitors and Tony drifts out of her grip and towards Mary. She spreads her mouth into the best smile she can manage and takes his hand, greeting him gladly. "Tony. How are you?"

"I'm quite well. And yourself?" His countenance looks briefly worried and he tighten his grip on hers.

"Oh I'm as busy as a bee, with all this business regarding the tenants."

"You haven't really answered my question."

"I'm perfectly well." But her tired eyes convince him otherwise. Nevertheless he does not press her. "Are you busy tomorrow?"

"No, why?"

"I was wondering if you would like to come to London with me. I have something I need to talk to you about; a topic that is not really appropriate for the Downton Abbey drawing room."

"Goodness! You have certainly piqued my interest." She smiles again and steps back a little. "You shall have to excuse me Tony, I have something planned with Tom."

"Is it something that I may be able to join in with?"

She desperately wishes for him to stay away from the one thing that makes her current spinster life worthwhile, but at the same time, she cannot help but feel bad for the handsome 'pirate', as her father so amusedly called him, standing in front of her, looking hopefully into her eyes.

"I'm sorry Tony. It's some incredibly dull job that I should not wish upon you."

The truth is he would spoil everything. At the moment, Tom is the only one she can maintain a good conversation with, equal of the ones with Matthew, that does not end up resulting with tears and a fight.

"Alright. I'll see you at dinner."

"See you Tony."

As she walks out the front door pulling on her coat, she risks a glance I've her shoulder. He watches her as a dog watches its owner leave it to be put down - in a baleful, hopeless way. She sighs and turns back to face her brother-in-law, who is regarding her curiously. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh I suppose so. Tony's here."

"Oh? I thought you got on well with him."

"Too well, in all honesty. I wish he would leave it be."

"Leave what be?"

They have just climbed into the carriage and she sighs again, folding her hands on her lap.

"If I tell you, you must promise to not breathe a word to anyone."

"Of course."

It all comes spilling out of her as they make their way to the field they are surveying. By the time they have reached the overlook, she is tired but relieved that an ally knows the truth. He turns to look at her as they climb down into solid earth, and to her surprise his expression is sad.

"I hope you won't take this the wrong way, Mary, but...it's not actually his move."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...it seems to me that you were comfortable to sleep with him but not willing to let him go as quickly as you make out."

"He's the one who is not willing to let it go! He did agree that it was just to see how we got along and how comfortable we felt."

"True. But Mary, when you have three men hanging at the end of a string; adding to the fact you are no plain Jane - it's understandable that you would want to proclaim your single status by leaving him still on the ends of the string."

Her face is a picture of puzzlement. "I have no idea what you are trying to say, Tom."

"You're playing with him. It's completely understandable. You have been sad and lonely since Matthew died and Tony Gillingham was a comfort to you for a while. But now, you are uncertain about how you feel about any of them so you have stuck your claws in a little further to keep your choices open."

"But I have chosen and I don't choose Tony."

"Charles Blake then?"

"No not him either. The truth is...I am ready to marry again, but I only want to do so when I am so in love with the man that I see no other way."

He glances over at her. Their eyes lock and there is a moment of understanding between them. "Tom..."

"No, Mary. I love you and I care about you, but I'm not in love with you. The thing is, Mary, Sybil took my heart with her when she died and I can only retrieve it when I meet the _right_ woman. I'm not trying to hurt you, truly. But we are not compatible Mary. It would never be right, and we could not look at each other again if anything went wrong. And I would never want that. I do care about you, Mary. I just don't want to marry you."

"I understand." Her face shows that she truly does understand and for the first time in a long time, she smiles. And the smile is sincere, something that she thought was long buried in the long dead relationship with Matthew.


	2. An Intent Revealed

_This is my alternate meeting to the one beneath the Peter Pan statue in series five. It's not long but I wanted to look at something that I may develop._

* * *

"I'm not sure I can be hearing you correctly"

"On the contrary, I am enunciating my words with great care."

"You cannot expect me to believe that I am to drop you like that, after - after - well, after we were together in that - that way!"

"That is not quite how I would put it, Tony, but that is what I am saying in the simplest of ways."

He stares at her, his eyes aghast, and lean back against the leather seat. Rules has been packed for the duration of their meal, but now it is almost deserted, allowing them to play out their argument at full volume.

"Well. I cannot accept that. I came to tell you and I might as well say it. I've set the date."

"What?" It is her turn to look horrified.

"It is what we both want."

"Excuse me -"

"No I shall not excuse you as the last time I did that I almost lost myself a bet."

She peers at him, perplexed. Tony slowly starts to comprehend that he has revealed the crux of his plan and his eyes widen in worry and horror.

"A _bet_? This was all a _bet_? Some ghastly plan to bed the daughter of an earl then claim her for a housewife while you depart elsewhere with another woman! I can't believe this."

She stands and storms away, leaving Tony to sink into his hands, dejected and defeated.


	3. Relaxing After The Plunge

_Here is the final instalment. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Okay Mary, here's what _you're_ going to do. You're going to ring Charles Blake."

"Wha -"

"No, hear me out. He's helped you before, and he can help you again. Here's what you're going to say - write this down - have you got some paper and a pen?"

Hurried and perplexed, Mary pulls a pad and a fountain pen towards her, switching the phone to her other hand. From the balcony, unbeknownst to her, Rosamund listens intently, the extension to her ear.

"Okay you ready?"

"Yes."

"'Charles, I need a favour. You were so helpful' - no wait cross that out... 'You were so wonderful last time with the pigs and I really feel that this time I need an expert hand.'"

"Slow down."

"Sorry. Do you need me to repeat that?"

"No it's all good. Carry on."

"'It's Tony.' By the way he will probably say something along the lines of 'I had a good feeling you'd come back for more', so get ready to not answer that."

She laughs, covering her mouth to reduce the chances of anyone hearing. "Keep going."

"'He's not letting the marrying issue go.' Wait, have you told Charles about you and Tony?"

"Yes yes, just keep going, Tom!"

"Sorry. 'I really need you to help me persuade him that I am not the right person for him.' He will come up with the plan. That's all you need to say."

"Really, Tom, you make it sound as if I could've come up with the words myself."

He chooses not to answer this, and at this point Rosamund assumes the conversation is over; replacing the extension and adjourning to her bed chamber. But it is far from over.

"What if he realises that I've written it down beforehand? What do I say?"

"Say you're so charmed with him that you have to have a script lest you digress and confess your undying love for him, which no doubt is mutual."

"Tom!"

"I'm joking, I'm joking."

But,at the same moment Tom is saying this, across London in the luxury flat he uses in summertime, Charles is weeping silently into the soft material of his settee, a letter discarded on the worn down wooden floor. The first line is smudged with tears, but it is clear enough what is the source of his grief.

_It may not surprise you to know that she's chosen me. _

"I just hope you are. Oh God Tom, what if he tries to propose himself?"

There is a silence. Then: "Do you really not know him at all, Mary? Charles is anything but obvious. Anyone could see that."

To her surprise, this cuts her deep, sending a lump into her throat and causing her to bend over the phone. She never thought that she could be so hurt at the fact that she is selfish. She knows she is, but this confirms it, confirms that she often forgets to notice that other people matter.

"Mary? Are you still there?"

"Y - yes."

"Are you alright?" His voice is urgent, worried.

"Yes." But the tears are pricking at her eyelids already and her hand trembles; the phone almost phoning.

"Mary? Hello? Hello?"

"Goodbye Tom." Her voice is barely audible as the phone clatters into place. She claps a hand to her mouth and sinks against the wall.

"Oh My God." One single tear slides down her cheek and she tears herself away, rushing up the stairs and pushing past the startled maid. Into her bedroom, onto the bed. Her body convulses as the door slams shut behind her. "Oh God what have I done? What have I done?"

* * *

"I had a good feeling you would come back for more."

"And I had a good feeling that's what you'd say."

"What do you want?"

She explains slowly, and he presses the phone to his ear, trying to convince himself he's hearing her correctly. Upon realising she's waiting for an answer, he shakes himself and replies:

"So you expect me to concoct a plan?"

"You'd do that for me wouldn't you?"

He tightens his grip on the phone and grits his teeth. Charles stares at the two photographs that have stood on his phone table for two weeks now. The first is of Mary, him, and her son, standing by the pigs. She crouches behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist and with her head on his shoulder, and Charles stands behind her, a hand gently laid on her neck. It was 'a present especially for you to remember me by', as Mary put it. Like he'd need reminding. He remembers the satisfied look on the camera man's face as he took the cover off the camera, saying 'That'll make a lovely piece for your dresser!' They had exchanged a hurried glance, blushes staining their cheeks. "We're not married," Charles had pressed; yet the man smiled and chuckled away as they followed him back to the trap.

"Charles?" Her voice on the end of the line is urgent, pleading. "Please?"

"Of course I will. Meet me outside Rules, tomorrow."

"Rules?" The dreadful reminder of the worst thing she's ever heard could throw her off.

"Is that okay?"

"Yes. Of course it is."

"The date is set. Do you think you can manage to phone Mabel without going into hysterics?"

"Mabel?" Horrified comprehension dawns on her slowly, filtering down the now silent line.

"Yes, Mabel. Mabel Lane Fox. M - a - b - "

"Very funny, Charles. Alright then. See you tomorrow." She rings off, ejaculating this last line curtly, making him wince as he replaces the receiver. The tears are now inevitable. He welcomes them.

* * *

"They're coming."

"What?" She look startled and for a moment he wishes he hadn't decided to do this. But then he meets her eyes, pools of pure beauty and he sees her face upturned, waiting.

"You ready?"

"What are you g - "

But she is cut off when he presses his lips to hers, taking her breath away. For a moment she stands frozen, but then she feels lightheaded and stars glint in her vision. It's like a cannon has gone off in her mind. Everything's clear. She's chosen.

"We're right on time I think - "

Tony has to stop and stare at what he sees. The woman; who only weeks ago was smiling as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him inside her, gasping sensuously; is melting into Charles' arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. They look like a couple on the first night of their honeymoon. They look happy. They pull away and he hears their chuckle; she bites her lip and kisses him again softly, wrapping both lips around his top one, sliding a tongue in gently.

Neither Mary nor Charles could have realised how much they loved each other until now.

"Mary?"

They pull away, turning slowly to meet his gaze. Mabel grins to herself. _Yes_, she thinks, _finally_.

" I understand now. I see you two are much better together. I do not wish ill upon either of you. Mabel?"

"Yes, Tony?"

"The date is booked. Would you..." The question does not need a verbal answer. Mabel has never been one for going round by the road. Taking a leaf out of Mary and Charles' book, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, the pleasure all the sweeter for being prolonged.

* * *

**Three months later**:

"What did I tell you, Mary? I knew you two had something."

"Give it a rest!"

"You look happy when you're with him. You never looked happy with Tony. But whenever you look at him, you melt."

"I'm glad I'm such a topic of fascination to you."

"I will always be here for you, Mary. You do know that?"

"Of course I do, Tom. Of course I do."


End file.
